If Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter Four Jamie

Chapter Four

Jamie

May was staying at the Embassy Suites a couple of blocks away, so Jamie asked if he could walk her back. She agreed, and their conversation flowed easily over the next twenty minutes as they slowly, slowly made their way. Did she want to prolong this evening as much as he did? She’d reached over to thread her fingers between his within seconds of stepping into the evening air, so he thought she might.

They arrived at their destination too soon. They could have walked around this town for days, and still, it would have been too soon.

She paused at the side of the building, which was partly shrouded in shadows and around the corner from the hotel entrance. It was almost eleven, and across the street several establishments were still going strong, music filtering through the doors as patrons came and went. His sister’s bakery was dark, having closed a couple of hours ago—but Frenzy, the brewery next door to it, would be serving into the early-morning hours.

On their side where they stood on the empty sidewalk, they were in their own little world.

He nodded his head across the street. “That’s my sister’s place, over there.”

“Yeah?” May squinted, probably trying to read the darkened sign, then burst out laughing. “Melt My Tart?”

He grinned.

“I never stood a chance during that argument, did I?”

In truth, he saw her point about cheesecake, even if he’d die before admitting it. He was just glad as hell he’d found an excuse to talk to her at the bar. “Would we call that an argument?”

“Discussion, then.”

“Maybe you should stop in tomorrow and hear my sister’s pitch. You’ll see it our way in no time.”

She offered a noncommittal smile. He resisted the urge to fill the next few moments of silence, hoping she’d do something with the ball on her side of the court. Like offer a number, an Instagram handle ... anything. He wanted to see her again, but the way she’d deflected about the reason she was in town made him hesitant to ask for much. His brain had gone through all sorts of scenarios, including dark ones where she might want to remain somewhat anonymous.

Not to him, though, surely? Not after tonight?

“Thanks for walking me back,” she said. “And for keeping me company tonight.”

“That was the best evening I’ve had in a long time,” he said simply.

“Me too.”

He smiled and her gaze dropped to his lips. When she swept her eyes back up to lock with his, the longing in her expression sent a flare of heat beneath his skin.

They stood so close their breath mingled, the air stretching thick between them. She smelled enticing and sweet, some mixture of her citrusy scent, fresh air, and a hint of vanilla. Would she taste as delicious as she smelled?

More importantly, would this be his only chance to find out?

Before he’d consciously decided to lean in, she reached for his arm, her cool fingers wrapping around his skin, and gently pulled him closer.

His heart stuttered when her body came flush against his. They’d connected on so many levels tonight—easy conversation, humor, feeling a little out of place in this world—that it seemed impossible they wouldn’t here, too. With lips and hands and eyes closed.

He curled his fingers through hers and lowered his head, dragging in a shaky breath. He paused at the last second with a squeeze of her hand, making absolutely sure she wanted this, and she tilted her chin to close the final distance.

Her lips were soft and pliant, brushing against his in gentle exploration. His free hand curved around her neck, brushing the soft, short locks at her hairline. A shiver passed through her, and she grabbed a fistful of his shirt to pull him even closer.

A groan slipped from his throat, and when she opened her mouth to allow his tongue entrance, he released her hand to wrap his arm around her waist, the kiss going from sweet to filthy in seconds. She arched into him and pulled him with her against the wall as his thigh found its way between her legs. Her thumb traced the shell of his ear as she slid a hand into his hair, sending a bolt of heat down his spine. He dropped his head to her neck, needing a minute to breathe, and pressed his lips to her skin.

Her head fell back against the bricks as he slowly trailed kisses up her neck. She turned and caught his mouth just as he reached her jawline, like he’d been away too long. He smiled and their teeth clashed, and they both took a moment to laugh at their momentary insanity before diving right back in.

“Where,” he breathed into her. “Where have you been?”

“Lincoln,” she said on a moan when his hand slid under her shirt and to the sensitive skin of her waist.

Never.

He’d never felt like this.

“Mmm,” he murmured, pressing his thigh more firmly against her when she tugged at his hips. “But you’re here now. For tonight. Come home with me.”

He sensed a change in her immediately. She’d gone still, eyes snapping open.

Shit. He immediately lifted his head and pulled his leg back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

She shook her head, cutting him off. She slid out of his grasp and moved sideways. “It’s fine, I just ... I should go.”

“Okay. I’m sorry if I misread something, I ...” He trailed off, gripping the back of his neck with one hand. Disappointment flooded his system, which still reeled from that kiss.

She touched his hand. “You didn’t. I just ... I can’t. It’s complicated.”

Couldn’t what? Complicated how?

He wanted to ask again why she was in town, how he could help— if he could help, and if everything was okay.

But she’d already deflected those questions once, so instead he asked, “Please, can I see you again?”

“That won’t be possible. I won’t be around.”

“But Lincoln’s not that fa—”

“I won’t be in Lincoln.”

She no longer met his eyes and didn’t offer more information.

“I guess exchanging numbers is out of the question?” Did he sound completely pathetic? It was hard to believe everything between them could have been so one sided, and he wondered if her ambiguity had to do with whatever she was going through. He hated it for her, most of all, but he selfishly hated it for himself, too. Did she really mean to leave everything here? Was tonight really it?

Her gaze dropped to the ground, as if she needed a minute. Then she looked back up at him with glassy eyes. Her voice wobbled. “It will only make things worse for me.”

He balled his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. He was at a complete loss.

She sniffled and began backing away from him. “Thank you for tonight. Really. I’ll never forget it.”

He lurched forward and grasped her fingers. “Wait. Please, don’t go yet. Can we maybe sit for a little while? Just talk?”

She rocked onto the balls of her feet and swiped her forearm across her eyes, and he prepared himself for her to pull away. But then she swayed toward him and nodded. “Okay.”

They sat down next to each other on the sidewalk, backs up against the brick wall and legs extended. He said nothing for a moment, relieved she was still in his space and terrified of scaring her off again. Even though he was pretty certain her exit attempt was more about whatever she was dealing with than about him, he still wanted every single second she’d give. Things had felt so comfortable before, and he wanted to get back to her smiles and laughter.

“I hate cucumbers so much I tell people I’m allergic just so one never gets anywhere near me,” he blurted out.

She let out a sort of single-snort laugh. It was loud and ungraceful, and he adored it. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he confirmed. “I don’t even think my own sister knows the truth.”

She jutted out her lower lip gave him an impressed nod, like, Nice . “Maybe I should try that the next time I’m around chocolate. I bet you don’t get unhinged side-eyes when you say you’re allergic to cucumbers.”

“Yeah, avoiding vegetables ... avoiding chocolate. Those are the same.”

Smiling, she rolled her eyes, then looked up at him thoughtfully. “Isn’t cucumber a fruit?”

He frowned. “Is it?”

“I think so, but I feel like we’re not the best people to discuss food categories. That could go south again real quick.”

He laughed. “Good idea.”

They fell silent for a few moments, watching the activity across the street. She tapped his shoe with hers and then offered up, “I was voted Most Likely to Quietly Take Over the World my senior year of high school.”

It was his turn to grin and say, “Seriously?” Then he added, “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. Also, now I’m a little intimidated.”

“Me too,” she said with a laugh. “Like, how was I ever supposed to live up to that?”

He hadn’t known her long, but for some reason he could see it. “You’ve still got time.”

She went quiet and looked down at her hands, and he almost asked if he’d said something wrong. But she leaned her head on his shoulder and asked, “Did you have a superlative?”

“No, my school didn’t do those.”

“If they had, what would yours have been? Biggest Heartthrob? Beauty and Brains? Most Athletic?”

“Wow. I love this game. Keep going.”

She pinched his side, and he caught her hand. He couldn’t tell who initiated it, but their fingers intertwined and came to rest together on his thigh.

“Honestly, I have no idea. How about Worst Case of Senioritis? Was that a thing? Because by the third day of school senior year, I was over it. I wanted to be outside or playing baseball, with nothing in between.”

They went back and forth like this for another two hours, sharing pieces of themselves on every topic imaginable.

Jamie: “I’ve never seen a single Star Wars movie.”

May: “I love escape rooms. Best modern entertainment idea of all time.”

Jamie: “I started drinking coffee when I was ten, because my grandpa was a navy man who drank it with every meal and I thought he was a total badass. I didn’t actually like coffee until I was sixteen.”

May: “If a song has an acoustic or stripped version, that one will one hundred percent be my favorite.”

Jamie: “My favorite word is petrichor, because it sounds cool and there’s nothing better than the way the earth smells after it rains.”

May: “Before tonight, I hadn’t kissed a guy in more than two years.”

She’d tilted up her face when she said that one, her head still resting on his shoulder, and after wondering what the fuck was wrong with men in Lincoln, he’d acted on impulse. He leaned down and kissed her, soft and slow and deep, careful not to get carried away.

At some point he’d pulled her into his arms as she dozed against his chest, her palm resting on his stomach. After the bars across the street closed and the lights shut off, Jamie held her, trying to force his body to stay awake and soak up every second of this woman that he possibly could.

The last time he checked his watch was at 2:17 in the morning, and when he woke up with a start at 3:02, he found himself slouched against the wall of the Embassy Suites hotel.

Alone.